When he was 3

If you’ve been a parent for more than a decade, you probably know the feeling of disbelief that your child is the same person as the little one in your photo album.

The other day I had a beautiful dream.

Big Malcolm and I were together in the kitchen when we heard Little Malcolm, aged 3 or 4, come up the stairs.

I went over to the basement door and squatted down. Little Malcolm snuggled in close and perched on my knee. I put my arms around him, and we talked the way we used to talk. 

Big Malcolm was still standing next to me, watching. I knew that he, too, was aware of how differently I related to Little Malcolm than I relate now to Big Malcolm.

10 years later

The dream left me with a lovely mental image of two versions of my son, at different ages, in the same place, with a reminder of the illusory nature of time.

That vision is helping me reconcile the cognitive dissonance of having a child grow up and change.

I think the dream was precipitated by writing this article about weaning.